Disengaged
by graystephen93
Summary: Harvey finds himself living a reality he had never even considered when Donna accepts another man's hand in marriage.
1. Chapter 1

_for Kris_

 _thank you for inspiring me,_ _always._

* * *

Harvey knew this man was different from the rest. From the moment he met him. One of Louis' long-term clients that had weaseled his way into their lives, her life, just recently. He always wore a friendly smile and didn't seem interested in pissing contents. He understood the close partnership he and Donna shared and even seemed genuinely interested in it. Which made it all the harder on Harvey, of course. It's easier to object to her relationships when he has a legitimate reason to.

But Thomas made her smile. Big. He made her clock-off earlier from time to time. He made her walk the corridors like he hasn't seen her walk in forever. All without actually making her do these things. And all that was bearable. Painful, but bearable.

Until he made her his fiancé.

And suddenly Harvey was plunged heart first into a reality he could never have been prepared for. This wasn't supposed to happen whenever either of them dated other people. Things never work out. They never make it this far.

Donna had waltzed inside his office this morning, just seconds before his life really went to shit. She had finished early the night before to make it to their six month anniversary dinner. It had felt like déjà vu to him. He hadn't offered her an anniversary gift this time.

Her left hand was behind her back as she knocked. She wore an excited grin, but there was an unease in her stare that he couldn't quite pinpoint right then. He figured she was hiding some surprise gift, or something funny she wanted to show him. He sat back, smile enlarged, absorbing her. He doesn't get attention from her as much these days, not like this. Not since she became COO. Not since he screwed his ex-therapist and in doing so, screwed them.

And definitely not since he was watching her fall for somebody else.

 _Somebody else,_ because as clueless as he may be in regards to the actual depth of her feelings for him, he knows full well that they were existent over the years. More like visitors than permanent residents, but present nonetheless. Sometimes he'd even play up to them, use them, if it would suit. And whenever a new guy was on the scene - and distracting her usually undivided attention away from him - it would hit him in full just how much he enjoys her attention, expects it even. Not just because it's an ego boost and he's instinctively possessive over her. But because it's the validation, and the reciprocation of his own feelings for her, that he secretly craves most. Little, unnecessary things like tie-adjusting and coffee-delivering that always made him feel a bit less crazy for loving his once secretary - who was never _just_ his secretary.

So, he let himself indulge in her attention, for his own sake. "What is it?"

"Okay," she warned, heart light in tone, but heavy in chest. "I don't want you teasing me about it first of all!"

"Not promising that, I'm a natural born tease."

"Harvey."

Her widened eyes told him that she was actually nervous, no matter how much her practiced poise tried to hide it. And that she was in no mood for their old banter. He, on the other hand, could go all day. But he resigned to seriousness nonetheless.

"Fine."

Donna inhaled, a lot. "Now I know this might seem out of the blue.." Her chest sank, voice trying to reason what she was about to tell him before she even told him it. "But I'm happy, and that's what matters."

 _Happy_. The way she said it. It was too familiar.

And then the memories invade.

 _I just want you to be happy.  
_ _I really am happy for you, Harvey._

So this was about her and Thomas then.

She noticed his mood shift. "Donna, just show me.."

His amused smile was fading fast and his heart felt like it was gaining a few pounds with each anxious beat. He could already feel himself getting annoyed. And he didn't want to get annoyed. He wanted her to leave his office smiling, but he was never one to fake it.

"Now don't laugh.."

Nothing about this felt like a laughing matter anymore. She's right handed, yet her left was behind her back. And on second glance, she didn't seem to be holding anything, bringing him to one conclusion.

Harvey wanted time to freeze right then and there. No. He wanted to jump right out of his office window and feel absolutely nothing as he descended into something that would have to be less painful than what was coming.

Stoically, he watched her swallow, before she displayed her left hand before him, right over his desk. Four fingers dancing diagonally as she wiggled them about. A nervous release.

He clenched his jaw, giving himself a couple of seconds before he could even think about pretending to be content about it.

She looked from her ring to his eyes, the growing silence killing her. "So.. what do you think?"

 _I would have gotten you a better one._

"I think you're engaged," he said instead, unenthusiastically, but ensuring, or at least trying not to sound bitter.

"I am.." Donna smiled awkwardly, heart crawling its way up her chest and lodging itself in her throat. She inwardly scolded herself. What the hell did she expect? An actual smile? A hug? Definitely not what came out of his pompous mouth next.

"Bit soon don't you think?"

She watched him puff out his chest, lips smacking together, her own left minorly agape.

 _Child._

"Is that all you have to say?"

Unable to look at her, he could hear her voice deflate, hand limply slipping back to her side. He wanted to punch himself. For not being able to put on a show. For never being able to pretend to be happy about her finding someone. Especially when he knows she'd force herself to do so for him.

With his tongue poking his inner cheek and dark eyes rolling back up to her, he could hardly believe the words still coming out of his mouth. "What do you want me to say, Donna?"

"Congratulations would be nice.." Her voice trembled just a bit, but it was enough for them both to notice, and she hated the sound. So did he. "Or how about, _gee Donna, I'm so happy for you. You deserve this_."

"I am-"

"That's funny..." She cut him off before he even had the chance to bullshit her, swinging her thumb back to the hallway and frowning in exaggerated puzzlement. "Because I just ran into Louis on the way here. He almost suffocated me hugging me so tight." _So why can't you do the same, if we're just friends?_

She could only dream of having the balls to finish her sentence that way.

Whereas he couldn't even imagine hugging her in that moment. He could hardly even look at her. For reasons he can't even deny to himself these days.

"Oh, so you told Louis before me," is all he managed.

"I ran into him, Harvey." He could hear her losing patience, fast. "He saw the ring."

"I'm sure he did.." He made a conscious effort to pay his laptop more attention than her or that stupid piece of shining silver stuck to her hand. Tainting her.

Donna narrowed her eyes on him with vexation. A brief, angry, and unwelcome thought settling in her mind;

What ever attracted her to such a baby?

"Why don't you just come out and say whatever it is you wanna say for once, Harvey? Save us all the bother!"

She was daring him, he could feel it. Just like she was the night after he told her she knows that he loves her. But too much has changed since then. And not in the ways he now knew he wanted them to change.

However, her elevated state only helped aggravate his own. "You've known the guy two minutes, Donna!" Her mouth was hanging open in shock and he despised himself for not being able to quit while he was still somewhat ahead. "What, you two gonna move in together now too?" He worried he was being too obvious, showing too much, but he couldn't control it.

"And what is it to you if we do?"

She couldn't figure out why he was making her feel bad for having a life. A life outside of him. But maybe that was her answer, she thought. _Of course_ that was her answer.

Challenging him wasn't something she was afraid to do. The asshole once declared - in front of the entire goddamn lobby - that he didn't want more, with her. So he doesn't get to make her feel silly for finally finding hers, with someone else.

"It's clearly nothing to do with me, Donna.."

It was as if the truth in his words was physically disabling him. He had become more dejected, eyes falling shut for the briefest of moments. But long enough for her to pick up on. To make her wonder. For the first time in months.

"Harvey," she sighed with diluted indignation, both shoulders relaxing, somehow still finding herself concerned for his state of mind after the underwhelming reaction she had just received from him. She knows him too well to actually believe that his behaviour isn't stemming from something deeper. "Where the hell is all of this coming from?"

He wondered how on earth he could ever answer that question honestly. So he chose to lie. For the umpteenth time. She was hot on his trail and he didn't like it one bit. Not when it was clearly only him left with stupid fucking feelings after all this time.

Harvey stood up, feeling too defenseless under her near immobilising stare. His stern frown telling her that he was only getting worse. "You wanna know where this is coming from? It's coming from _you_ ," he bellowed across the room. "Kissing me. Altering my life. And then running off into the sunset with yours!" _Without me._

Donna shook her head, any sympathy she still had for him and the state he was in, jumping ship, sinking straight to the bottom of their stormy sea. "Are you seriously bringing all of that back up right now?"

She had missed the point. Of course. It being too ambiguous, as per. All she could see was him blaming her. Not him begging her to open her eyes, just once more.

But there's no way he was making himself that blatantly vulnerable. Right now, he'd rather she see him as a dick than weak.

"You asked," he retaliates, immaturely.

"And now I wish I hadn't." Her light smile was by no means joyful, and did anything but comfort him. "I wish I hadn't even come here to tell you in person before you heard it from somebody else."

Her disengaging from him like this only helped feed his ugly side, starving for any slight encouragement. "Yeah, well, maybe you shouldn't have.."

Indifferent and dismissive whenever he was feeling the complete opposite. His textbook coping method. One he uses on the people he loves most more than the ones who actually deserve it.

"You know what, Harvey?" She waited two or three seconds before she answered her own rhetoric. "I don't even want your congratulations. It'd clearly just be meaningless anyway. Because God forbid anyone have a taste of happiness before you do."

He thought if he heard that word one more time he might actually reach insanity.

But then she turned her back on him and walked out without another word, and he felt like he already had.

His jaw set, molars cemented together, eyes looking down at his desk before his pupils dare land on her back. Her shrinking form storming down the brightly lit hallway. Having him remember exactly where he was and how they weren't alone. Which is all he felt. He wasn't hers anymore - in whatever unorthodox way they claimed each other. She's pledging her lifelong devotion to another man now. She's actively moving on from their dysfunction. Dare he say abandoning it. Because that's what it felt like. Regardless of his Lily issues. It felt like she was running from him, replacing him.

And she was trying to. Without even realising. Prematurely offering another man the key to a lock that it would never be able to open, not fully.

And Harvey was running out of time before she'd give up and just let him pick it open instead.

When she was no longer in sight, he sat down again, turning his back on his firm in favour of the endless concrete, glass and sky before him. Suddenly feeling like the most isolated person in the entire city. His whole life turned on its axis because of one devastating detail.

 _Donna's getting married._

* * *

It's almost nine o'clock now. The last twelve hours having ticked by more like twenty-four. Harvey sits in his office after hiding away behind a screen for most of the day. He hasn't seen her since their engagement altercation. She didn't even try to bump into him once. No work related messages sent by her either. Didn't even look up from her desk both times he passed by her office. It was the longest day at the firm he'd had since she left his desk, after they both said I love you.

So now not only is life long, apparently work is too.

Heavy eyes roll across the darkened room and hit his decanter. He sighs, closing his lids. Her aggrieved expression painted on the back of them; smiling, vibrant eyes turning to enraged, dewy ones.

He should have congratulated her, through gritted teeth if he had to. What he did was despicable. She's Donna for fuck's sake.

He considers just pouring the one glass and sinking into his office armchair as the burning spirit warms his cold one. But he has to make this right. Tonight. Before she goes home, to him no doubt. The thought of another man making her smile after he'd just made her feel two inches tall making him want to smash his glass against the wall. Or crush it in his fist.

 _No_. He would put this argument to bed while he still could. Before it soured their entire relationship. He would remind her that he has a spine after all. That he cares about her. That he wants her to do what's best for her own happiness. For her heart.

Even if it would break his own.

* * *

After sharing one drink alone, Harvey stands small outside her door, relieved she's still inside. Sat quietly on the far side of her couch. Head in some file work but mind very much elsewhere as her trusty Bic pen taps against the edge of the sheets. Letters and numbers jumbling into one as overthinking causes her vision to blur.

The sight alone is almost enough to have him run away, retreat home safely. He's not even worthy of her forgiveness right now, he thinks. What kind of a man does this to the one person he has constantly and unconditionally cared about throughout the years?

He wonders if he'll even have the courage to open his mouth and step inside. But she catches him out of the corner of her eye anyway. She gathers herself. But she doesn't look up.

"What is it, Harvey." It was less of a question, and more of a _get lost._

Her thumb subconsciously strokes her ring finger and the white gold object around it. Since their argument, that's all it felt like to her. An object. Metal. Inanimate. Cold. As if his disapproval had tainted its meaning, watered it down. When it shouldn't have, at all.

He walks towards the couch anyway, two full tumblers in hand. "I hear congratulations are in order." He stops, studying her reaction before he dares move again.

Donna scoffs, her blood starting to boil for the second time today. Bubbling under her cheeks, her chest. Sparking unruly, spirited flames worthy of a true redhead.

But then she looks up at him. And he's not even wearing that annoyingly endearing smirk he knows is likely to work in his favour with her. Which means he's here for her, more than for himself.

So she exhales, breathing out most of her anger and deciding to hear him out. He can have one more chance. They've been through a lot together. Especially in the last year.

And besides, she's worried about him. She's not oblivious to the dissolution of their old dynamic. Thanks to Paulas and promotions. But mostly thanks to her new relationship.

He remains stood at the other end of the couch, as if waiting for another cue to approach. He cocks his head to the side, eyeing her the way he was too afraid to earlier. All attentive and apologetic.

She nods towards her own decanter across the room. "You know I always have scotch in my office." For him. _Them_.

He smirks, apprehensively. "I know, but I figured if I showed up with them already full…"

"Then I'd be less likely to turn your sorry ass down?"

"Something like that yeah.."

Without rewarding him with a smile just yet, she eyes his peace offering, biting her inner lip as she contemplates. "Give me the left one."

He doesn't even realise how softly he's grinning as he steps closer, handing her the glass that's a little bit more full and sitting down beside her, leaving just two feet between them. But he might as well have been sitting back in his office for how much closer it made him feel to her.

It's as if she's no longer there. For him. And not in terms of loyalty, she'll always have his back. But for him to chuckle with, to seek advice from, to brainstorm with over some shitty Thai that feels anything but shitty when shared with her. For him to just be himself with. He feels as though he hasn't seen that man in forever.

All of this has only made him realise that this day was inevitably set in stone. Neither were brave enough to ever have the conversations they needed to have. So they were always going to end up here, eventually. It just stings more when it's him that's on the receiving end of it.

They suffer the silence for a little bit. Neither liking how noticeably uncomfortable it felt. That much alone seeming so alien to them.

After another sip he looks over at her, deciding to bite the bullet. "I'm sorry."

"You should be."

"Well, I am," he affirms deeply, brows raised. "And I wish I had more to show for it than just words."

He's here. In the flesh. Without having let days or even weeks pass before he realised how wrong he was. And that's plenty more than words for her.

"I accept your apology, Harvey." She means it, and he can hear it in her tone, sees it in her features. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me." It doesn't feel right after how he just treated her. And for once, she doesn't know what to say back.

Following a brief pause, his eyes go suddenly more solemn. "I just… get protective of you is all. We've been through a lot and.." He gives up all too easily when he predicts that finishing truthfully would grossly implicate him. The crime? Desiring a woman who has promised herself to another man.

When the quiet takes hold of them again, he bites his lower lip, watching her smooth the edges of her glass from the corner of his eye as she gazes her scotch. Looking back at him, she registers the guilt in his eyes, cast downward now, forlorn. She doesn't need him to keep going - as much as she would like him to.

"It's okay, Harvey. I know you were just looking out for me." She loses her endearing smile to a humorous smirk and a pointed left brow. "In your own emotionally stunted way.."

The pair share their first chuckle in what feels like forever. Things starting to feel as effortless as the night they met, but eventually making them realise how far from that night they really are these days.

Donna pulls in a deep breath, hoping it would soothe her chest a bit as she blinks at him, a teasing grin transfixing him. "Does this mean you'll be my maid of honour?"

She made the light jest out of discomfort, without thinking. Wanting to keep up the smiles, even if they might be somewhat plastic. But it just sounded wrong and she notices his unease straight away. Too soon.

But she can't not wonder why they couldn't just discuss it like normal friends. Surely this was just another one of their 'but it doesn't mean..' moments. Bothered, not jealous. _Right?_

He schools his initial reaction and swallows, breathing out a smirk manufactured for her benefit as he raises his tumbler between them. "Let's not push it."

His response puts her at ease and she giggles a bit before she mimics the action and he holds her gaze as he speaks again. "Congratulations, Donna."

Their glasses clink and it feels like the most awfully unfitting noise to accompany what felt like the end of some kind of unvoiced era. There was nothing to celebrate about the heavily entwined fabric of their friendship - however fickle it was in its attempt to remain solely platonic over the years - being unwelcomely unwoven and stitched back together in a more distanced, parallel pattern.

Harvey stands after they finish the last of their drinks, feeling the need to flee before more wedding talk is brought up. Before the groom is brought up.

She rises after him. He smiles with warm eyes, both arms spread out for a hug because he doesn't want to just say goodbye verbally, and he doesn't know what the hell else to do. How else to express such intricate emotions. Naively hoping they'll leave him once he lets her go.

Donna inhales rather sharply, not expecting the invite, but moving towards him all the same. Soon finding herself wrapped up in an embrace that's equally sobering and intoxicating. One she only wants to last a brief second - and an eternity at the same time.

He decides to say something that's true, without having to feel disingenuous. Because no matter how much he wants her to be happy, he could never actually feel happy about her moving on without him. Ever.

"You deserve this more than anyone else I know," he tells her hoarsely, but earnestly.

"Thank you."

She guesses this is it. He's over the initial wave. One she's rode herself more than once. The same one that always crashes over them whenever they get too serious with someone else. It's just the norm at this stage. It doesn't _mean_ anything. She's crazy for ever wanting it to.

Her chin digs deeper into the crook of his neck as her palms on each of his shoulder blades pull him closer than he ever would have chanced with her. After everything. His attractive scent fills her nose whilst warm breath tickles her exposed shoulder as he exhales through his nostrils. Only losing his facade of a smile once he'd lost her eyes.

He never wants to let go, because it feels as though he's finally letting _her_ go. Only because he has to.

He'd realise in the morning that he didn't let her go at all.

His hands slide down her skin as they part, lingering at her wrists longer than necessary before he presses his lips together and nods. "Good night, Donna." It's another apology and a thank you in one.

"G'night, Harvey."

He's walking away a moment-too-long later, when some feeling she can't recognise pulls at her.

"Engagement party is next weekend." She nervously watches him stop in the doorway, turning around, brows raised, face blank. Her vocals are softer than he's heard in forever, subconsciously practicing the voice she only ever uses for him. "I hope you can make it."

Hand tapping the edge of her doorway, he glances around the room, nodding in thought. His eyes find hers, but only briefly - so there's less chance of her seeing through his guise, and finding grief.

 _She really isn't waiting around._

"Wouldn't miss it for the world."

After one more long-lasting gaze, he's gone. And she remains. Standing all alone. Left to sift through a sudden renaissance of feelings, familiar ones, swelling up inside yet again. Leaving her burdened with one thought. One burning question that she's more than afraid to ask herself, let alone answer.

Why did she prefer it when he wasn't taking it so well?

* * *

The clock is just about to strike eight the following week and Harvey's still at the firm going over some last minute details on a case he's just closed. Humdrum paperwork that he could easily finish in the morning. But then he wouldn't have an excuse to be late to this fucking party that felt like the furthest thing from a celebration - to him at least.

Nothing seemed real yet. Not the relationship. Not the engagement. Not even the ring on her finger. None of it. He knows he has to accept it, believe that it's not just a temporary stage in their lives before she ends things with him. Because that's what they always do, it's almost expected now. Unspoken, unofficial protocol. But going to this party would make it all sink in and he's scared shitless about where his mind will be by the time he makes it home. Alone. Thinking of her _not_ thinking of him.

He hears a light tap on the glass that wears his name. Habit hopes for Donna, but he knows she's long gone given the evening that's in it.

He double-takes the smaller figure standing in his doorway, frowns a bit before a light, welcoming smile cracks at each corner of his trademark grin. He could do with some familiarity right now.

"Aren't you at the wrong firm?" he jests, sending smirking eyes her way.

The brunette smiles, shaking her head as she approaches. "Oh, I'm _exactly_ where I'm supposed to be right now." She stops just before his desk.

"Is that so?" He can hear the flirt in his tone and it unsettles him for the first time with her. Now that he's fully conscious about who he wants to use that tone with. _But fuck it,_ it's not as if she wants to listen to it anyway.

"Harvey."

She's reprimanding him already, which tells him she's not here for what he had initially thought.

"Scottie."

"You turned me down last time I was here, you really think I'd give you another chance to?" He goes to speak but she cuts him short as she sits down opposite him, leaving her bag on his desk. "The only answer is no."

Her remark doesn't even make a dent. "So what brings you here then?"

She crosses her legs and scoffs. "You mean if it's not sex with the one and only Harvey Specter?"

He tilts his head, eyes telling her to make with the explanation.

Scottie takes in a breath and just looks at him. He swears he's detecting pity but can't understand why. Until she speaks, too softly. "I heard about Donna."

 _You'd swear she died or something._

"Everybody hears about _Donna Paulsen,_ " he mutters, eyes veering away from her, back to his papers.

His bitter reply makes him wonder if she'll take his last name. Surely she wouldn't. But then again, what does he know? The thought of her getting married someday never even crossed his mind until it was too late.

"Let me guess," she muses in feigned wonder. "This the part where you pretend that you're indifferent to it all?"

Harvey stiffens. "I'm not indifferent, at all." He's not lying. He has _many_ feelings about the engagement. Just none of them good. "I'm.. happy for her."

He's heard that word so much lately he thinks it's lost all meaning. He's never felt further from fully experiencing it for himself, let alone somebody else.

He fails to bullshit her as well as he'd wished to. She raises her brow at him. "I hope you were more convincing when you told her that.."

Harvey tenses his jaw, thumbs digging into each palm as his fists ball. He slams back in his chair, lazily and impatiently throwing his hands up. "What do you want from me, Scottie?"

"I don't want a single thing from you, Harvey," she asserts. Her days of needing him in any way, shape, or form were behind her now and she was telling him as much with her speech.

It doesn't affect him in the slightest. He only misses one woman's affections. Has only ever truly missed one woman, in that way.

"Then what _do_ you want?"

"I want you to realise that you don't have to be freaking miserable all your life." She sounds annoyed, but on his behalf.

"And what makes you think I'm miserable?"

"Donna Paulsen's ring finger tells me that you are, Harvey," she answers dryly, before opting for humour. "Oh and your entire face." She lets out a small chuckle but when he doesn't return it at all, she stops, giving him time to catch up with the conversation.

They share a silence that speaks volumes and afterwards, Harvey feels comfortable enough to knock down a few bricks.

"I don't know what to do.." he mumbles in despair.

Scottie smiles sadly at the confirmation of his feelings for another woman. She knew. But now she _knows_. Knows that there's undoubtedly no hope for them now. And in hindsight, she sees that they were never going to work anyway. Not since the day he met a certain redhead.

Eyeing him carefully, she says it simply. "Don't let her marry him."

He doesn't look up, twisting in his chair, side facing her as his vision lands on his mother's canvas. The one Donna has touched more than he has. His forefinger sits under his nose, chagrined brow lowered in hidden thought. And in an attempt to dismiss her words. He swallows when unshed tears threaten to blur his vision, biting them back before they're too obvious.

"It's what she wants, Scottie. I'm not getting in the way."

He's in no mood to deny even wanting to stop all of this. Scottie's no fool. It's clear she knows as much.

"Harvey, I know I haven't been around lately. But I used to be.. and I noticed things." Her statement catches his attention. "And I know when I've been lied to."

He frowns at her defensively. "What did I lie ab-"

"Not you." Scottie pauses, waiting for him to relax so he can really hear it. " _Donna_."

"What are you talking about, Donna's not a liar."

"You and I both know that's not true. She lies when it comes to you and her all the damn time," she laughs resentfully at the fact, genuinely amused at how willingly blind he was to the things he didn't want to see. "Maybe she doesn't even realise she's doing it, I don't know.."

He's growing tired of the conversation now, remembering he has somewhere to be. Which laughably, is more appealing to him than this meeting right now. "What are you getting at exactly?"

She inhales, brows raised as she recalls a memory for him on the exhale. "I asked her if she was in love with you once." Harvey narrows his eyes, about to interrogate her before she finishes. "She said no."

He hates how much that stung. He feels pathetic. "And?"

"I mean, she recovered pretty well, but I saw it in her initial reaction. Before she acted her way out.."

This interaction is news to him, but he's not surprised Donna never mentioned it. He's more than curious now. "Saw what..?"

"Oh my god, you two really are well matched." Laughing about it makes it easier to accept.

Chest puffed, he opens his mouth to put an end to this. "Scott-"

" _She's in love with you,_ Harvey."

His mouth is left agape, his hopes raised, but he'll be damned if he shows it. "Don't be ridiculous."

Donna once told him the very same thing, but about Scottie. She said it wasn't about her. She wouldn't lie. _Would she?_

"I saw it." She shakes her head lightly. "I saw it every time I passed her damn cubicle. And what I saw.. that doesn't just go away in a couple of years. Not when you still see the person day in, day out."

"I think you need to get your eyes examined."

If Donna loved him, in that way, it would have been revealed after she kissed him - _and felt nothing._

"Look, I don't know what's gone on between you two lately." Scottie spies him looking down at his fingers, silently tapping his desk. "But I guess after the last time I saw you.." She sighs, failing to find words, remembering his own inability to answer her question about Donna's involvement in his last breakup. "I just didn't expect I'd be hearing this."

"Yeah well, now you've heard it so.."

"Jesus Christ, Harvey," she laughs, sans humour. "You're such bullshit!"

This was not how he expected his night to begin.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. You always act like you're this huge risk taker, yet you can't even fight to keep her in your life," she challenges, smiling in bemusement at him. "When it's clearly killing you!"

Harvey clenches his jaw, more than displeased at being called out. "She's still in my life."

"Not in the way you want and you know it."

He turns his palms up, irritated and tired. He snaps. "What am I supposed to do, Scottie!?" His voice is sarcastic, eliciting an eye roll from her. "Show up and tell her that the guy whose been ignoring her for years is the guy she should be with? _Now!?_ When she might finally have met someone worth her time?"

Scottie leans forward, desperate to get it into his thick head once and for all. " _You're_ worth her time, Harvey." Her words seem to soften him. He submits, lets her in a bit more. "And I think if you just ask her to give you some of it, and explain how you feel.. things could be very different."

He zones out, nourishing a new thought, before he shakes his head at it. "There's too much at stake, I can't.."

She observes his externally silent reaction a moment longer, before deciding to stand, knowing her visit is over.

"Either you risk it, and risk losing her. Or you suck it up, and lose her in a different way anyway."

He doesn't reply and there's not much more she can say. The more you try to push a stubborn mule, the less he'll move. She smiles at him once more, bittersweetly. "Have a good night, Harvey. I'll see you around."

He hardly hears her final words, their impromptu discussion drowning him in doubt. Uncertainty about Donna's ability to lie straight to his face, countless times over the years.

If she could lie back then, what was stopping her from lying to him months ago? The night after she kissed him, to be exact.

* * *

It's a modest gathering, mostly close family and friends. Nothing too overboard. But nothing bland either because she's Donna, and what's the point in having a celebration if you don't stand out a little?

Thomas' arm is around her shoulder as they sit at their banquet table. His fingers and thumb kissing the bare flesh of her arm as he chats to his friend to the left of him. She hardly even notices him mindlessly caressing her. She makes eye contact with them both every now and then, nodding with an impressively authentic sounding laugh before her eyes are scanning the room again.

Is he actually going to be a no show? After she forgave him?

She can't help but wonder what it would mean if he didn't make an appearance. Work isn't an excuse. Even if he was swamped - which she knows he's not - he'd make time for this, for her. Unless something was eating at him, still.

But just like that, he materialises in the main entrance of the sumptuous function room, glancing around, immediately picking up a champagne glass as a young server passes him with a full tray.

Donna exhales, a shy smile raising her cheeks. He must really be okay with it all. She pretends that all she feels is relief at the fact. Too afraid to disturb old thoughts. Old feelings.

Without much delay, she rests her left hand on her fiancé's thigh, whispering in his ear to tell him she'll be right back. His eyes land on Harvey over her shoulder, who seemingly hasn't spotted them yet. He nods with an understanding smile, gives her a chaste peck and releases his arm from behind her, soon returning to his conversation. One she thinks is about the country's current foreign policy. Not exactly ideal party conversation, but he's pretty much perfect, so she'll let it slide.

Harvey's at the bar in no time. His masked anxiety beginning to hit him in full swing. Alone, at Donna's engagement party, while she sits in the arms of another. The sight of her chatting in his ear just then forcing him to chase something stronger. Macallan is definitely calling.

"Champagne not good enough?"

He hears her before he sees her. And her voice usually only ever puts him at ease when he's like this, but it doesn't do the trick tonight. Not when he knows what he wants to say to her. Needs to say to her. Before all of this goes too far.

Then he remembers exactly where he is. Maybe it already has.

She effortlessly slides in beside him, right arm resting on the varnished oak bar. Harvey eyes his champagne flute, still more full than empty. He looks to her then, his witty greeting disintegrating in his throat as his now bulging eyes do all the talking.

Her dark, shoulderless dress sparkles. But pales in comparison to her eyes, glistening beneath the array of fairy lights overhead. Red locks run in smooth, shiny currents over one of two freckled shoulders, the rest down her bare back. He detects a high slit in her dress from the corner of his eye, but doesn't look down. However, his groin isn't as gentlemanly.

He's silenced for a bit too long so she resorts to humour, glancing down at her hand-tailored gown. " _Beautiful,_ I know."

Her imitative tone tells him that she's heard it all night. The word practically hollow to her now. Even coming from Thomas. But she didn't let herself fixate on that, lest she start allowing herself to find silly reasons not to marry him or something. She refused to let herself do that this time around, hide from commitment.

Harvey doesn't joke back though, because it's true. She looks out of this world (and currently seems out of his). Now, and every other time he's laid eyes on her. But he's not going to tell her that tonight when he never has before. It doesn't feel like the moment. He just hopes he'll have that moment sometime in the future, if the next few hours go well.

He nods with a charming smirk instead of opting for such a banal platitude. "There's no mistaking whose party it is, that's for sure."

It was a copout compliment, but she's still flattered. Probably overly so. He's all too good at affecting her, emotionally, with comments that shouldn't earn such a visceral response. She could easily shrug off sweet nothings from various suitors over the years, if she pleased. Because Donna Paulsen knows she's an attractive woman, and she doesn't need to be told as much. But, that nonchalance also stemmed from the fact that such forward comments never came from the one person she would have actually liked to hear them from.

"I almost thought you were gonna bail on me," she continues, overly casual, as if she hadn't just been wondering if he'd make an appearance for the last fifty minutes. Her teasing eyes widen for effect, "Leave me with all of my boring friends."

 _Friends._ As if her engagement wasn't enough of a stab in the heart already - however unintentionally so.

"Let me guess.." He turns his head an inch or two and his stare meets Thomas' table. He doesn't even attempt to feign an ounce of geniality as he turns back to look at her, happily showing minor distaste. "More politics?"

She amusingly rolls her eyes at his predictable antics, completely turning her back to the gathering now, both elbows resting on the bar as she leans to her left without pressing against him, without facing him. "It's his one flaw.. I'll let him have it."

"So far.." It just fell out of his mouth before he was even aware that words were forming.

Donna sends him a sharp glare, head tilting with curiosity. "What do you mean?"

He decides to play it off as a general comment. Not one specific to Thomas. "Nobody has one flaw, Donna."

"I don't know.. he's pretty great."

Is she trying to provoke him? He shakes the thought, he knows she's not. He's just not thinking straight.

"I think I prefer people with imperfections anyway," he digs, childish intonation worthy of any eleven year old. "Anyone without is just hiding something."

That was bullshit and he knows she must know as much. Harvey has always held everyone he considers dear hostage to the most unattainably high standards. And the second they remind him that they're only mere human beings, he takes it to heart, often lashing out. Incapable of dealing with their faults, especially if said faults remind him of his own.

Donna was always the one to feel the largest brunt of this behaviour. Trying her best to remain on her pedestal. Never showing too much vulnerability, weakness, lest she scare him away. But naturally, life makes it too damn hard sometimes. _He_ makes it impossible sometimes.

"Are you just here to diss my fiancé or..?" She's only half joking, well aware things could quickly turn ugly if she became overly defensive right now.

But he has a point to make. He leans one side on the bar, his chest too close to touching her arm. Once he notices the physical effect he has on her, it triggers something inside. Something his confidence was starving for. He gravitates that bit closer, until they touch, and very consciously sets his voice to something low, deep and incredibly inappropriate. "I'm here for _you_. And you only."

Of course Donna's oblivious to how literal he's being. But she doesn't fail to note a ripple of arousal in his tone, making her swallow, overly titillated.

She hears the spell he's put her under as she speaks. "Well, I'm glad that you are."

Irises morph from brown to black right before her own. She watches him think, then contemplate, then chew his lip before he decides on a course of action.

"Donna.."

Dark, hungry eyes flicker down to her speckled chest, then ascend back up to glossy lips. He's about to meet her for eye contact when a bright shimmer catches his attention and he looks down at her ring reflecting light between them. His face drops and he appears saddened and annoyed all at once, confusing her. Until she follows his gaze, landing on her fingers kissing the edge of the bar. Again, she feels awkward and ashamed about it. He makes it feel like nothing more than a regular piece of jewellery.

Letting that hand, and that diamond slip back to her side, she faces him fully. Bodies far too near, testing resolve and turning repression, into expression.

Her eyes are waiting for him to finish. He thinks they look hopeful, but wonders if that's just him being overly so.

Harvey sighs when he realises that Scottie may have convinced him to say something, but he has no idea what that something actually is. How do you put almost fourteen years of loyalty, trust and undefined friendship into words? Feelings formed by whatever higher powers that be, into something created by man to make communication easier. When ironically, it only ever made it harder for him. To express himself. Easier to make a mess of things, though. That, words could always help him with.

 _You know I love you, Donna._

"Harvey?"

He wakes back up to find her intrigued stare trained on him. Cautious, concerned, confused.

Just as he's about to speak again, the barman slides his scotch in between them, pulling him from the moment. Awakening the coward within from its brief slumber.

"Nothing." He forces a soft smile, places a hand on her forearm. It's feathery, but still lights her skin on fire. "I see Louis over there, I better go say hi." He nods, removes his hand, and then himself.

Harvey Specter. Leaving her. To go say _hi_ to Louis Litt. Something's definitely up. She knows she shouldn't be tempted to get to the bottom of it. Tonight of all nights. This party wasn't his. It wasn't theirs. It was for her and Thomas.

And yet, she's never felt more enticed by his ways, his ambiguity. Never more tempted to dance their alluring dance. Press that ever reliable self-destruct button she keeps conveniently stored away for when things get too real with somebody else.

For when things get too real without him.

* * *

About an hour passes and Donna's convinced that Harvey's avoiding her now. And that he probably wants to leave soon. Without even saying goodbye, the dick.

And he is avoiding her. Until he has enough alcohol in his system to speak to her again that is.

He doesn't even realise he's watching her from across the large, noisy room until _he_ shows up at her side. Politely pulling her out of a friendly conversation. His greedy hands all over her. Smug lips kissing hers as she smiles into him.

 _Asshole._

Harvey's top lip curls as he takes a generous swig of his favourite poison. Deep down, he knows he's only disgusted at him, at them, because it's everything he wants to do with her in public.

He's about to look away when he notices a subtle sign of discomfort in her body language, her reciprocation. Her palms are on Thomas' chest, gently pushing him away with that feigned smile Harvey knows all too well. Her lips are moving, probably muttering some excuse about public displays of affection.

It's enough fuel for the fire though, rekindling his dwindling aspiration. The encouragement he needed to tell her how he feels. Tonight.

As if God was listening, he soon spots her heading out in the direction of the bathrooms. Somewhere he could really be alone with her.

Without taking his eyes off of her for a second, her bare back drawing all of his attention to her as she gracefully makes her way out, he finishes his drink and presses the empty glass against Louis' chest until the disgruntled man grabs it on reflex.

"Harvey what the..." He stops himself short once he follows his friend's determined gaze and sees Donna leaving. By the look on Harvey's face, and what he knows about the two of them, he can tell something's about to go down if he follows her out. "Harvey, no no no," he panics. "Now is not the ti-"

"Now is _exactly_ the time, Louis," he responds adamantly, without adjusting his line of sight, in case he lose her. And with that, he's leaving. Hell-bent. Slightly drunk. And definitely done with their shit after about thirteen years too long.

Her heels smack against the tiles outside the bathroom door and she just about lands her palm on the oak when she hears him call her name as he stalks after her. Just like she suspected he might when she had felt his eyes all over her from the corner of her own just moments ago.

His voice. It's raw. Thanks to Macallan number four. But it's also commanding, and purposely dominant. He means business. He means _personal._

She gathers a breath and turns around. He's almost right in front of her already, surprising her slightly. Pointing a brow, she begins to laugh the sudden intensity off. "Harvey, what's so important that I can't use the ladies' room first?"

He decides not to waste any time. He doesn't have that luxury anymore and he finally knows it. "How could you not feel anything when you kissed me?"

Donna freezes, chest tightening, throat constricting. She blinks up at him with burning cheeks, a beating heart and flustered brain. "What.."

"When you kissed me, Donna," he nods, impatiently imperious, fingers ringing at his sides. He demands an answer once more. "What did you feel?"

He has pushed her centre stage, right under the spotlight with no time to run lines, to rehearse for such a burning inquisition. She didn't know what she had been expecting, but it certainly wasn't this.

Donna swallows, glancing left to right before closing in on him a few extra inches with a stern look. "Harvey, I don't think this is the pla-"

"You see…" he interrupts, eyes darting upwards, pondering with exaggeration. He's not interested in putting this off for another second, unsure if he'll ever have the courage to bring it up again. "You said you didn't feel anything.. And I believed you. Because _Donna Paulsen doesn't lie,_ right?" His intended sarcasm creates a sickening sensation in her stomach. Her gut feels heavy. "But that's impossible. You had to have felt something. Good or bad. You don't just feel _nothing_ , Donna."

Her mouth is wide open but no words escape. Her brows are arched as she blinks and breathes with trepidation. His accusation forcing her to recall that night. Something she used to do herself every day. Until Thomas showed up and served as the ideal distraction for both eyes and mind.

She tries to remember how she felt before he kissed her back. Before she pulled back. And then just like that, it hits. That overwhelming feeling that makes her body feel incapable of standing. One she's long suppressed, denied. For so long now that she forgot - or just refused to remember - that she had even lied to him in the first place. What she told him, and herself, over and over, meticulously morphing itself into her reality, her truth, which then became his.  
She didn't feel anything when she kissed him.

But you can only deceive yourself for so long. Especially when the man you've been lying to is finally demanding the truth.

"So what was it?" he shrugs, waking her from her own mental expedition. "What was going through your mind when you were kissing me eight months ago?"

"I…" Donna shakes her head in shock, eyes shaking along with it. She can hardly breathe, let alone think about what to tell him. "I can't remember.."

"You seriously expect me to believe that?"

"It's the truth!" she shouts, louder than she expected to, voice echoing throughout the empty, narrow hallway.

Or at least it used to be. She can't believe how much she's lying to him. But what else can she do when her fiancé is in the next room, blissfully unaware of what's happening?

"Bullshit!" Harvey scoffs. "You really are a liar!"

She'd argue that, but he's fucking right.

"Well I'm sorry that everything I was thinking went out the window when you start kissing me back, Harvey!"

Her quick rebuff is met with an eerie, deafening silence. And followed by his shoulders relaxing, exhaling in surprise and defeat, eyes softening, vulnerability on display. Faint murmurs of music, chatter, and glasses clinking fill their ears.

One way to get herself out of boiling water was to throw him in it.

"Yeah, _now_ you shut up." She chews the inside of her lip and smiles sadly, eyes and nose stinging. "You want the truth until you can't handle it."

"You think I can't handle that?" He can. He just didn't know that she knew he wanted her back that night. "I'd kiss you right now if you weren't wearing that goddamn ring, Donna."

His low, grainy tone takes effect deep within her groin, leaving her mute for longer than she's comfortable with.

"You're drunk," she eventually whispers in shock, because she doesn't have a damn clue what else to say.

"I'm tired."

"Of what.." she exhales with exhaustion, still needing him to be more specific.

Harvey cements his lips together in a bid to stop them from shaking, nostrils flaring. He blinks back near paralysing emotions so he can speak, knowing exactly what conversation his reply would teleport them back to.

"Not having everything."

They might as well be back in his office again. Reliving that night. Except this time he's answering his own question.

It feels good at first. Him opening up. Until the timing of it irks her, lessening the impact of what he's just said. What if he's just scared and selfish and doesn't really want what he thinks he wants right now? Once it's not being taken away from him anymore.

So she needs to challenge him.

"And you conveniently realise that _now?_ Just when I'm about to start a life with somebody else?"

"I know," he agrees ashamedly. "But it was now or never, and.. I couldn't live with myself if I stayed quiet any longer. If I didn't say it."

"Say what, Harvey?" Both hands flap at her sides, tired of the unclarity. Because he still hasn't told her _how_ , and she feels that might be where this is going. Subconsciously, she tries to prod it out of him, feigning more ignorance than she actually has. "That you don't want to see me prioritising anyone else?"

"That I want _you_." His jaw sways lightly once his confession is freed. "And being this close to losing you again, for good, made me realise that I've only ever wanted you."

Neither even realise that his digits are delicately smoothing her wrist, and down the back of her palm, until the silence drags and her head stops spinning for a second. She looks down, wanting to give something back, but she can't. He clears his throat and with reluctance, returning his hand to his side.

His voice is quieter, less hopeful when he speaks next. "I just needed to say it. I needed you to know it. That I lied about not wanting more." Her eyes and lips tremble in sync, stalling him for a second. "So at least when you marry him.." She hears a tiny break in his voice and it kills her. "It'll be after you have all the facts. Because I can't live with the lies anymore, Donna."

There's so much pain hiding behind his glazed eyes as he smiles sweetly, for her sake only. She thinks she might actually faint. Her mind completely on overdrive. But she needs to tell him that she lied too. Especially when he's had the courage to do so himself. She needs to let it out.

"Harvey, I…" She's so starved for breath she's not sure she even made a successful sound. "I…"

"There you are."

Harvey's chest sinks as a tall figure appears out of the corner of his vision. He shuts his eyes, facial muscles tensing and fists contracting tightly.

 _This son of a bitch._

His lids open just in time to see a startled Donna painting on a fake smile, too much teeth to go with such watery eyes. But she ensures not to spill a single tear as she directs her attention to Thomas.

"Hey!" Her voice is shaken but only Harvey would know. "We were just catching up.." She won't even look at him and it feels like too much of an answer.

"Sorry, my Dad's about to leave and he wants to say goodbye. But I can tell him to wait?"

Donna finally gazes back at Harvey, but now he's looking at Thomas with a friendly expression she knows is only to help save her ass from any suspicion later. "No, no need. I was just leaving anyway."

Everything around her blurs. His broad, suited form stepping away as he nods good night. Footsteps she desperately wants to follow echoing around her. Until she's dragged back into some sort of stability with the concerned call of her name.

She looks to Thomas smiling, stepping towards him as he plants his hand on her naked back. It makes her shiver, but not for the same reasons certain fingers against her wrist had done so mere moments ago.

As they're walking back into the room that she knows will feel empty without him, she glances over her shoulder, just catching sight of him leaving the building.

But this time she knows it's her that's running away.

.

.

.


	2. Chapter 2

The day of the Paulsen-Kessler wedding arrives and although Donna appears happy on the outside, she can't fight off the unease that settles low in her abdomen. Telling her that she has rushed things. Let her anger at Harvey - or more so at his timing - influence her decision to set a date.

She had convinced Thomas that they're both at a certain age now, and they know they want to be together, so what's the point in waiting? It's the inevitable step after engagement anyway.

And now, she's walking down the aisle, her father on her right, dozens and dozens of familiar and not-so-familiar faces turning back to grin at her and admire the lacy gown that trails behind her as she steps in time with the music.

The actress inside her grits her teeth and dons an award worthy smile as she scans the rows of seats from behind her veil. Only looking out for one face. And not the face of her groom stood opposite her, beaming with pride as she gets closer and closer.

She can't feel him in the crowd.

They all too quickly make it to the top. Jim gives her away with a loving kiss on the cheek and in an uncontrollable blur, she's standing opposite her husband-to-be.

Veil down, she's thankful he can't really see her face right now because she's sure she isn't masking her nerves all that well anymore. She can't see him clearly either, but she's more concentrated on the crowd out of the corner of her eye anyway.

 _Where the hell is he?_

It's a short ceremony. The way they both wanted. She hardly registers his voice, a faint, familiar murmur as he utters his vows. Everything is happening too fast. She feels like she might actually blackout before they can even finish. But she pushes through.

All too soon, it's her turn to speak and she can barely hear the words coming out of her own mouth as her ears burn, muffling everything. Her mind is completely elsewhere, feeling miles out of her body. As if she's looking down on it all rather than physically experiencing it for herself.

She distinctly hears the officiant ask if anyone has any objections, though. She waits for Harvey's voice to cut through the room. But he's really not here. To save her. To fight for her one last time.

It's her own fault. She pushed him away after his confession the night of her engagement party. She didn't give him an answer - which was an answer in itself. And now she has come to her senses. And desperately needs him to remember his. Just one more time.

She feels firm, gentle hands next. Taking her left one and sliding the ring onto her finger, before she does the same. Almost involuntarily. Watching it all unfold in front of her eyes, without having a say in what her body was doing. Puppet on strings. And she had to perform. It was too late for cold feet now. There would be no understudy.

Before she knows it, they're pronounced. Man and wife. Till death do them part.

 _Shit._ She really let it happen.

She thinks she might actually burst into tears. This can't be a dream. It could only qualify as a nightmare.

 _It's okay,_ she convinces herself with her next shaky breath. It's for the better. He will make her happy. And any doubt will settle once this is all over.

But as her vision clears, so does her storm of thought.

She focuses on him through the veil. His smile is too big. His hands oddly comforting as they reach towards her, pinching the edges of the masking material and exposing her face to him.

Her heart begins to thaw out, pumping warmth back into her veins.

 _He's here._ Grinning at her like she's making him the happiest man in the world just for saying I do.

 _You may now kiss the bride._

Harvey leans in as fingers and palms slide down her arms to her waist, wrapping around her as if they never intended on letting go. A sensational feeling replacing the sheer dread that led up to it. His lips take hers like there's nobody watching and she opens her mouth for him as her arms cross around his neck. Digits gently, yet hungrily combing through his strands, then caressing his skin. Kissing him just like she had really wanted to that night in her office.

She expels a relieved breath, mouths grazing still. "You really meant it."

"I told you I want you, Donna," Harvey mumbles against her plumped, numbing lips. Both shamelessly smiling into each other.

Until she feels him stiffen, his smile disappearing against her skin, pulling back. "But you waited too long." And when he lets go, everything turns cold again.

She opens her eyes to see the wrong smile, the wrong face. The wrong man.

One she's just married herself to.

Images of such an unwanted future forces Donna to wake in a panic, sweating and suffocating with his slumbering affection before she wriggles free from the arms that will never belong around her like his do.

She sits up and gazes back through the morning darkness to see a stranger sleeping soundly in her bed. A stranger she had fitted into her life to fill an expanding void that was hollowing out her heart. A stranger whom she never introduced to coffee with vanilla. A stranger whose ties she never fixed. A stranger whose love never felt as whole as shitty Thai nights, can opener rituals, or Del Posto dates.

A stranger she had just agreed to spend the rest of her life with.

And the more she thinks of it, the more she wonders if that was a cry for help.

A cry for him.

* * *

Friday night turns to Sunday evening. Harvey and Donna haven't seen each other since the party. She worked from home on Saturday. He was both relieved and disheartened not to see her in the office all day. He wanted to talk about it, to know how she took it, and what she plans to do with his confession. Before too many cobwebs build and they lose sight of each other again. But he was also petrified that she didn't want him back in that way. Still is. His gut tells him that she does, that he saw it in her reaction the other night. But then they parted ways, and she hasn't reached out.

He has come to realise that he's missed so many things over the years. So many signals. He doesn't want to miss any more. But he feels as though he's made himself as clear as he possibly could to someone who's engaged to another. The next move is hers to make.

He's sitting down with his first scotch of the night, the electric fire illuminating his contours as he relaxes in the dim room. Thinking of her. His eyes veer towards his record player then. A growing need for something that would make him feel anything other than this numbing nothingness.

His feelings for her ways been the largest inconvenience in his life. And yet, unlike most other hindrances, he could never bring himself to discard of them - not that he had control over them anyway. So with him they remained. _She_ remained. And he grew to like it more and more over time; the feeling that loving someone without expecting anything in return provided him. Until moments like these cropped up. Where the fear of losing her, or the fact of having lost her, drowns out all else.

He places his tumbler on the coffee table with a sharp clink as glass meets glass. Sighing, he gets up to turn on some of his Dad's music when a forceful knock at the door demands his attention instead.

Misery might love company, but he doesn't want any. He frowns, no idea who it could be, more than tempted to ignore it. But that's not his style. Except when it's his personal life knocking, then he'll gladly lock himself away.

Inhaling the breath he'd need to carry himself down the hall, he starts making steps, reaching the end and grumpily swinging the door wide open. His unenthused expression turning to one of peak interest when he's met with his unexpected visitor.

"Donna," he says in light awe.

Her face isn't telling him a thing and she wants to get straight to the point, ensuring not to let her eyes slip to that bit of exposed chest under his white, buttoned down shirt.

"Can I come in?"

She'd never asked that before. Never had to. She'd always just shown up, come in, and made herself at home - or was already there when he arrived. Something he loved more than he'd ever let on.

"Of course."

He's caught in a daze, completely inert, her heightening brows reminding him that he actually needs to step out of the way in order for her request to be granted. He eventually snaps out of thought - or lack there of - scratching the back of his head as he gestures her inside.

She's without a coat and carries no bag as she cautiously struts her way into his apartment, the loose skirt of her black dress smacking against the backs of her knees. He wonders if she left in a hurry. She's not dressed for a New York winter evening. Not that he's complaining - not with the way the fabric clings to her flawless figure. But she must be cold.

If he'd have the nerve to ask, she'd say no. The adrenaline keeping her body adequately warm.

Harvey closes the door and forces himself to follow, dreading what's going to come out of her mouth as she turns on the spot to face him once she makes it to the edge of his kitchen island, nails resting on the marble.

But nothing does.

Sensing that it's not going to be that type of confrontation, he slowly lets the ball roll, gesturing towards his decanter in the far corner, "Can I pour you a drink?"

"No thanks, don't need one." She sits herself down on his stool, head tilting lightly, examining his cards without showing any of hers.

Harvey nods awkwardly. Doesn't know how to stand, where to look, or what to think.

He decides on tall, her unrelenting eyes, and the worst.

"But _we_.. need to finish that conversation you started the other night."

"I agree."

"For once.." she scoffs, unsure why she's being so standoffish. Probably nerves, and nature to self-protect.

Harvey shoots her a look for being snarky without the need. Umber eyes telling her that he's not going to argue back, doesn't have the energy, nor the want. She picks up on it, and it seems to put her at ease as he lands at the opposite side of the island, just an arm's reach between them.

"What do you wanna know?" He's no longer scared to ask, but is more than afraid of what she might answer.

She takes in a deep breath, a fearful fearlessness about her.

"Are you saying you want everything?" she questions as calmly as possible, hands on her lap, putting her most perfected performance skills to use in the hopes that he wouldn't see through her brave front. "With me?"

Hands losing his pockets, he rests them on the edge of the island for support, an apprehensive smirk forming. "You're really not wasting any time, huh?"

He's oddly comfortable with the eye contact. She's less so.

"Haven't we done enough of that?"

Donna watches his eyes fall to the space between them. "More than enough.."

"So.." Her chest rises as she speaks, before it deflates again. "What you said to me the other night… did you mean it?"

He cocks his head back up immediately, shoulders raising, face in frown and completely offended. "Of course I meant it. What did you think I-"

She has to force herself not to roll her eyes. "You'd had a few to drink, Harvey. And we both know jealousy makes you do stupid things."

Stephen Huntley flashes through both of their minds at the exact same time. She's done with using _bothered._ He was damn well turning green with envy and they both know it.

He could call her out for kissing him when he was with Paula, but he's not feeling tempted, or brave enough to poke the beast. Besides, how could her actions have been motivated by jealousy when she didn't even feel anything? But then, would she really be here if she didn't?

"I don't think it was stupid." He straightens up, face solemn but tone so proud she thinks she might chuckle. Until he continues. "And for the record, I'd never felt more sober in my entire life than I did when I was admitting how I felt to you."

She swallows back a sudden lump in her trachea that she thinks is her heart. This side to him would take some getting used to.

Shuffling on her seat and avoiding his eyes, she clears her throat before looking back up at him, trying to keep her top lip tight so it doesn't waver. "How long have you felt this way about me?"

There's something so refreshingly nerve-wracking in the air using such words about one another, _with_ one another.

"I told you, I-"

"Yeah, that you realised you've always _wanted_ me.." Donna cuts in, completely unwilling to let them go in circles any longer. "But when did _always_ begin?" she asks, genuinely curious, completely oblivious. "And what does want mean… to you?"

She knows what she wants it to mean, what she thinks it means. But she still needs to know _how_ he means it.

"Donna.."

Her trained Harvey eye notices his signature ways return - cagey and guarded whenever it comes to emotional expression.

"I need to know, Harvey." Her tone is firm, uncompromising. He can tell it's now or never but…

 _She's fucking engaged._

He hears her sigh with exasperation before he senses her standing to leave.

"If you won't even tell me how you-"

"I can't!" he cries out in frustration, having her gape up at him in surprise.

His dark, distending pupils slowly mark her face and body before he turns himself away, as if half afraid he'd lunge at her across the counter right then and there. He feels his eyes prick, probably becoming red, and definitely angered, disturbed by the neglect of now irrepressible emotions.

She watches his back bend with burden as he hunches over the opposite countertop, knuckles digging into icy marble.

"It wouldn't be right.." he mumbles with low, shallow breath.

Donna smiles sadly and glances down at her ring finger with guilt. She had a feeling that her being with Thomas affected him from the very beginning. Of course he made no effort to tell her as much so she ignored it until it went away. Or until he got better at hiding it. But just as the sun can never stay down for long, this blaze was bound to rise again.

Watering eyes trail back up to his fatigued form, still facing away from her while he faces his demons. Telling her the ins and outs of his love for her would have him cross all sorts of self-prohibited infidelity lines. Friday had been taxing enough for him. Knowing another man, who'd never done a thing wrong to him, was in the same building the very moment he made a play for his girlfriend.

But it's different, with her. She's Donna. How could he not try? She might be another man's fiancé, but she's his.. _everything_.

He hears her heels against the hard flooring a few seconds later, gently clicking their way towards him as she rounds the island.

His left side warms with her presence. He doesn't look up yet. His knuckles turn white under the pressure, then he relaxes his fists.

Donna releases a subdued sigh, their shared exhaustion wearing her down. Years of concealed pain seeming so pointless now. She wants to see him smile again. Needs to. Partly so she can too. But mostly because she misses it.

"Harvey," he hears her whisper at his shoulder.

His spine twitches under her unexpected touch. Her flat palm tenderly kissing his upper back, smoothly rubbing circles as she gazes up at him, desperate for him to look at her. So she can show him.

But he doesn't dare. If he so much as glances at her right now, he'll have no hope of avoiding the same path as his mother.

She lowers her head to hide her shy smile from the corner of his vision, knowing damn well why he was avoiding locking eyes. The thought alone enough to have her blush.

His jaw grates with a rapidly relenting resistance when her left hand lands on his bicep next, fingers wrapping around the muscle in a soothing caress.

"Donna…" he grumbles, deep, eyes forced shut and groin simmering with the sudden contact.

He feels her warm breath against him, swears it was a small, silent laugh. The fact that she's teasing him like this only frustrates him more, yet he can't pull himself away. Her touch too torturously sublime. He imagines this must be how drug addicts feel.

Her left hands slides all the way down his contracted muscle, then forearm, meeting the exposed flesh after his elbow, her skin on his forcing hairs to stand tall, communicating with goosebumps all over his body.

"Harvey…" he hears again, dare he say in a sultry tone. Her palm is sliding over his, and before long, she's wedging her slender digits between his firm ones as they each lay flat over the counter. "Open your eyes."

Her anticipating stare flickers over his face as she waits for him to comply. When he does, her thumb strokes his own. She watches his gaze meet their conjoined hands. _Her_ hand, to be more specific.

"Notice anything?" she asks sweetly, in her gentlest tone that neither are aware is just for him.

It takes him a second, but no more.

 _No ring._

His brows crease and he straightens. He lifts his hand to get a better look at hers. Silently studying her sculpture. Beginning to feel as though life just knocked on his door again.

She watches a timid smile crack at the corner of his mouth, making her heart come alive the same way it did when she kissed him. "I guess I was sick of all the lies too."

Then he looks at her, and just like that things shift. And he's pulling away, forcing himself out of her grip.

Her arms drop to her sides, a pang in her chest.

How was _that_ his next move?

He starts getting anxious, pacing, fingers roaming through his hair.

"Harvey, what's the matter…" she asks slowly.

"Promise me something," he blurts, finally looking back at her, stepping closer, hands desperate to touch, but holding back.

"Depends wha-"

"Promise me this is what you really want." _And you're not just pitying me,_ he finishes telepathically. "That I haven't ruined your chance of happiness."

Donna closes her eyes with an exhale, relieved it's just that. Something she can easily confirm. And that he's not trying to run away once things got a bit too real. Again.

She smiles, lips pressing together to tamper down a grin. With a lascivious smirk, she fills the gap between them, hands on his waist before her right slides upwards and stills just under his ribcage.

"I want _you_ , Harvey. You're my more. Always have been, always will be."

She says it so simply, so matter-of-factly, that he wonders how he ever believed anything else to be true.

Donna watches as the most relieved smile she's ever seen starts to form and she can't help but reflect it. She feels the rest of it next, pressing against her lips as starved hands grasp her neck and pull her closer to deepen the embrace. Her fingers pull at his shirt and skin as her need for him builds, humming into their kiss, breathing hot against him, standing on her toes to reach that little bit more of him just before she pulls her head back, bodies still molded, her eyes saturated with lust as she beams up at his adorably confused face.

"You still haven't answered my questions.."

"Isn't this your answer?" His thumb slowly swipes her bottom lip, his own pair having spread some gloss around her mouth, now raw.

"This is a kiss," she teases.

"Donna.."

"Harvey.."

He exhales, cocking his head with a smirk. Stubborn to the bone. One of the many reasons he loves her so much.

" _Always_.. began the night I met you."

He leans in and kisses her, making her laugh and break contact once again as she waits for the rest of her answers, his answers.

He tastes her neck, intentionally getting her as hot and bothered as possible. If she was going to force this out of him, knowing what he's like with this sort of shit, he was going to make her pay for it. Even if it was all pleasure at the end of the day.

" _Want.._ means _love_."

He pulls back from her jugular so he can get a good look at her, and her reaction. He grins with boyish satisfaction when he sees he's left her speechless. She feels his hands under her ass next as he spontaneously picks her up and firmly plants her on the island, before he pins back a stray lock of honey hair behind her ear.

"And this is _how_."

Donna moans when she finally feels the response to _love me how_ against her mouth, this time bruising, telling her everything she ever wondered with lips, teeth and tongue. She widens for him, desperately needing to taste more of him after all the words he's just uttered.

He pulls her against his groin. He knows she can feel his dick twitch under her clothed centre as her limbs hug his hips with an endearing possessiveness. Her thumbs under his ears, fingers tasting his neck and scalp, she eagerly reciprocates, slowly rocking against him before she tugs his lower lip between her teeth, kissing it with tongue until she relaxes, ravenous, hooded eyes telling him to get her naked, _now_.

She hasn't seen him look so smug in forever and she realises just how much she's missed that big idiot grin. Doesn't know how she ever tried to replace it because it's clear to her now that it cannot be duplicated. No smile looks like his. No smile feels like his. But more so, no smile makes her smile quite like his.

Open mouthed and breathy, they meet for another kiss, one hand exploring up her spine, stopping at the nape of her neck before slowly sliding her zipper back down with it until he reaches the mark just above her ass. She shivers as the air bites her flesh, but knows it's just because it's him who's undressing her.

He feels her hands in his hair as skilled lips redden the skin down her neck, ceasing at her collar bone before teeth find the strap of her dress and pull it down her shoulder, his hand working the other one. Legs tightening further around him, she releases a sigh of pure arousal, wriggling her arms out of her dress as he helps both straps off of her arms, awakening goosebumps the entire way down. He abruptly pulls the material down to her waist, jet black eyes met with ivory flesh and voluptuous breast, begging to be freed of her bra. Her come-hither eyes summoning his hands to do the same. One palm kneading her breast, thumb flicking the nipple under the fabric as the other unhooks it from behind, soon discarding it across the floor without a second thought.

"Christ," he grumbles lowly, and she observes his eyes darkening in the dim light they share, his tone so enthralled by her physique that she feels herself slicken even more so.

She doesn't even have time to utter a witty comment before he's fervently sucking her nipple, massaging the other in the space between his thumb and index so intensely she starts to grind against him again, bending to the tension building in her groin, her clit beating as he stimulates her, forcing her head to drop back, one hand around his neck, one palm planted on the counter for support as he leans into her while he works for combined gratification, his heated breath whispering sweet nothings - _seductive everythings_ \- along her chest and neck, using their position to orally explore her upper body until he's kissing her gaped mouth again. Her brows heightening with amplified need each time he tweaks her flesh between his digits, his other thumb drawing circles on her waist, triggering muscles to dance under his intended touch.

Suddenly, Harvey slows down his movements and waits for her lustrous eyes to flutter open so he can look at her as he thumbs her erect nipple some more. After she does, he glides his left hand down her hip, then thigh, raking back up along the smooth flesh beneath her dress as his indenting fingers flush her pale skin pink.

He lightens his grip on her breast, sharing eye contact still as that hand gently grasps her waist to steady her while his other hand slips between her legs, teasingly caressing warm flesh over her soiled thong.

"Don't say it," she warns, squirming under the contact.

Harvey smirks, watches her close her eyes as he purposefully strokes his thumb over her covered clit, making it throb louder, almost unbearably. One set of fingers squeezing his bicep, the other latching to the side of his neck, she inhales with a gasp that he feels in his groin when his hand ventures under the material. Strong digits moving diligently down her dripping folds until his thumb meets her swollen centre.

"Do I even need to?"

When she goes to roll her eyes he presses her where it matters most and she lets out a small whimper, pulling her face closer to his, noses grazing as she recalls the last time she felt such orgasmic ministrations.

"It's been a long.. fourteen years," she pants at the memory.

He immediately makes her sigh against his parted lips as his fingers massage her nether ones, stalling a second at her entrance before pupils connect and he slips two inward, leaving his fingerprints inside her core for the first time in far too long, padding her flesh as they curl against her, hitting her internal trigger over and over, simultaneously pressuring her exposed centre with each slick brush of his thumb.

After a few thrusts, he adds a third finger, "Thirteen and a half," grunting against her mouth when she inhales sharply at his smartass correction.

Struggling to catch her breath, forehead now lightly decorated with sweat, she still can't resist teasing him back. "Are you gonna make me come or what?"

"Only all night," he replies with a fervent kiss - and without missing a beat.

Donna whines. Harvey tugs on her bottom lip, numbing the flesh, fingers writhing inside of her on repeat, fucking her senseless as their sound resonates the room, and them. She jerks against him without control, riding the hand that was bringing her closer to climax with each zealous caress.

Her next sound is lodged in her throat as she nears culmination. Electric waves ripping through her core before she comes over his palm, contracting around his fingers still working inside her, steering her towards the ultimate ecstasy, unstable legs eventually loosening their grip around him as she rides out her orgasm under a coital daze.

He gently soothes her tender centre a while longer before he pulls out, leaving her tingling, trailing his lubricated hand down the side of her thigh, kissing her softly, feeling her press herself up against his restricted erection, already missing him inside of her.

She kisses back lazily before regaining her senses, sending her most satisfied smirk his way as she nips her lower lip and smiles into him, arms around his neck and shoulders, vehemently cementing them together. She feels large hands rubbing her thighs, squeezing her ass. Smiling into him and mumbling something about it being his turn, her fingers tip-toe down his chest, hand stroking his hardness on the way down before cupping his crotch, eliciting a low growl from him as he buries his head in the crook of her neck before he's kissing it, lightly nipping her pulsing skin.

When he hears his zipper being pulled down, he lovingly grips her hand and shakes his head, eyes smiling into hers. He could fill her right then and there, but they've waited long enough. He figures he can wait another few steps until he can lay her down like she deserves.

Without warning, he swoops her off the counter, her hands joining around his neck at the surprise action, limbs crossing over his ass as he walks them somewhere she's never been.

"Kitchen not good enough for you?"

He hears her nerves beneath the facetious facade, but they're the good kind.

"I need a bed for what I wanna do with you next."

That shuts her up, makes her smile. He likes that.

He walks them over the threshold and she watches his grin broaden as he playfully throws her down over his linen with a thud. Her eyes have never looked darker, no green to be seen as devilish hazel beams up at him. He lowers himself on top of her, bodies clashing, lips smashing. She quickly works the remaining buttons, but it's still not quick enough for his incredibly palpable need.

"Just rip it," he mutters into her mouth, rocking on top of her, into her, feeling her grin at the thought of it as his hand works her breast once again.

It only turns her on even more, knowing how particular he is about his attire yet still wanting her to rip the shirt clean off his body. And she isn't about to protest.

The rest of his buttons pop, bouncing onto the bed and floor, hungry hands immediately sweeping over skin and muscle, raking abs before gliding over shoulders and guiding him out of the fabric, naked chests meeting with their next kiss.

His pants are on the floor soon after, followed by her dress after he sweeps the rest of it off her body, then their underwear. Total exposure, well past the point of no return - thank God.

Eyes and fingers run up her naked length with less haste, taking her in as much as he wished he'd done the last time. His young, eager self more focused on showing her a good time than stopping to think about how much of a good time she was showing him.

His erection grazes her hip as he lies against her side, hand stopping right under her breast, thumb stroking her nipple before his eyes find her awaiting ones. "You've never looked more beautiful."

He notices her breath hitch, her blinking slow. But he can tell by the way she schools her reaction that she's thinking of a clever reply, out of habit mostly. But there's a hint of insecurity there too.

The word suddenly feels meaningful for the first time in her life.

"Careful there," she smirks, thumb gently greeting the moles over his brow as she scans them before her eyes fall on his, her wavering tone not matching her steady composure. "You might fall in love with me."

He decides in that moment that he needs to say it. Mostly because she clearly needs to hear it. So she can finally stop masking her feelings. But also because he needs to hear it out loud too, before he goes crazy keeping it to himself any longer.

"Donna.. I've been falling in love with you ever since the night I met you."

She tilts her head an inch, mouth bending as she tampers down the endless array of emotions bubbling under a bashful grin. One that means all the more to him considering she's never the timorous type. Making it all feel supremely saccharine, like silently spoken confirmation that with him, it's different.

"Good."

The way she said it told him that she really meant _me too._

"Good."

He seals his final confession with a shy smiling kiss and she pulls him directly on top of her, spreading her legs to accommodate him. His adventurous lips trail down her jaw when she wraps her fingers around his hardened girth, turning sentiment to stimulus as she strokes out the last of his arousal. He grunts at the firm grip and nips her ear lobe, the pad of her thumb wet as she swipes it over the head of his cock, smearing precome down his shaft, now throbbing under her tenacious touch. He jerks into her hand, his tip tapping against her lower abdomen with each movement, until he's more than ready and neither feel like waiting another goddamn second. The mutual trust they've always shared cancelling out the need for conversations about pills and protection.

Besides, they both wanted it to be raw.

He takes the reins - his cock - teasing her clit with an inward smirk as he glides it down her wet, pulsating flesh. Taking pleasure as she moans with heavy lids, fingers digging into each bicep, noses kissing and lips searching before he buries himself inside her with an overdue sigh, evoking a gasp that morphs into a whine courtesy of his full length and width stretching her walls, and destroying any last doubt in her mind that this was always destined.

He deepens himself further inside the slicker she becomes, slipping in and out with the surging promise of synchronous climax. A withering heat burning through her core with each rhythmic motion. Sensing their peak, he links his right hand with her left, squeezing her tight while pressing the back of her palm into his pillow, using the bond to strengthen his final, and most crucial thrusts. The bed suddenly seems less sturdy as their bodies smack together on repeat, light sweat forming, wild sounds escaping.

His free hand comes between them then, rubbing circles around her bundle of nerves as she jerks into him.

"Donna.."

"Harv-" she whimpers, mouth hanging open with him panting over her, never finishing his name as her orgasm courses through her veins, vigorously spasming hips having him spill into her in no time at all.

He collapses on top of her, nuzzling into flaming hair and flushed skin.

She's lazily running fingers through his hair, head resting on her speckled chest, quickly rising and falling as she regains her breath with his stellar, spent body laying over her, and inside her, softer now. A pair of hands still joined, clammy with intimate need.

"That was…"

"Completely worth the wait," he finishes, kissing the flesh above her breast.

"Something like that."

He eventually begins to shuffle on top of her, eyes meeting hers with a satisfied stare before he kisses her, top lip between both of his. When he breaks, his lashes flicker over her infatuated features, before he mindfully pulls out, falling down beside her, reeling her closer with a kiss on the temple and pressing his stomach into her back.

He still holds her hand as they mold together again, thumb stroking her fingers but eyes only focused on one in particular. Now free of what once confined him to a life of loneliness no matter who would have replaced her someday. Not like anybody actually could. But he would have had to move on.

She feels her palm breathe again when he lets go to reach over and grab some tissues from his night stand, tending to her with such affection and comfort that she wonders if he's like this with all the women.

He isn't. And she damn well knows it - deep down at least.

"Such a gent," she purrs as he finishes, pulling her against him like before, left hand catching hers, chin resting between her shoulder and neck. She feels his softened length rest against her ass as a glorious ache between her legs begins to rise.

"Apparently so, tonight." He purposely let her know that it's just her, lips tending to a cluster of golden freckles on her shoulder as she caresses him back with her cheek.

"And tomorrow night, I hope."

His soft laugh reverberates through her skin until it hits her heart. "Every night, Donna."

"And who says I want you every night?"

"You did."

"And when was that?" She turns her head back to him, frowning with a crooked smile.

"Two minutes ago when I was making you come."

"Jesus Christ," she chuckles, shaking with laughter.

"I believe it was _Harv,_ " he mimics.

He feels a light walk against his bicep, knowing she loves it really. He squeezes her tight and they take a break from the teasing, just enjoying the sound, and the feeling of the other breathing in sync with them.

"Every night sounds good," she mumbles, sleepy eyes watching the tips of his fingers gently waltzing over the back of her palm.

"Sounds perfect."

Lulling minutes pass and he's still transfixed by her hand, naked again, no more dazzling diamond taunting him with bleak reminders of a soulmate-less existence.

She feels his burgeoning smile against her skin, but can't see it. Doesn't know what is causing it exactly. Too content, and too dazed still to wonder about specifics. So she's unaware it's because he knows he gets to be the one to put the next, and last, ring on her finger.

As they get comfortable under his sheets, he feels like himself again. Strong again. The type of love he has for her used to feel impossibly overwhelming, debilitating even. Because he had nowhere to put it all those years, nobody he could truly focus it on. So it smothered him. But now he has finally found a place for it. The most obvious place.

 _Her._

 _._

 _._

 _._

* * *

 _thanks for reading! :) and here's to hoping Thomas (TCM) actually fucks off as soon as possible in 8b!_

 _love riding this wave with you all, we got this._

 _x_


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